


No Light, No Light

by sapphiresunset



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Greek Mythology - Freeform, M/M, greek mythology woo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-23
Updated: 2013-02-23
Packaged: 2017-12-03 07:57:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/696015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphiresunset/pseuds/sapphiresunset
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on this kink meme prompt: http://makinghugospin.livejournal.com/11667.html?thread=1982099#t1982099</p><p>Grantaire is Hades, god of the underworld. Enjolras is Apollo, and he controls the sun. Grantaire wants Enjolras for his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Light, No Light

Enjolras was light personified. The sun that he controlled shined out of him. Grantaire, the personification of dark, ruler of the underworld, wanted to snatch him with his dark claws and bring him down, down, down to where night was king. He would float up to Mount Olympus on a cloud of inky blackness and watch Enjolras, fascinated. Grantaire wanted him. He wanted to get under his glowing skin. He wanted to chain the ruler of light down and make him scream until his throat was raw. He sat on his throne of ash and smoke with Cerberus by his side and dealt with the dead, trailing his long fingers on the arm of the throne. He needed something. He needed him. So he took him. It wasn’t an easy task; he did get burnt. The minute they descended to the underworld the light of the world was gone in an almighty flash. Enjolras’ eyes grew wide and his golden locks seemed to fizzle. 

“You can’t! What will the mortals do without the sun? I will never be yours!”

Grantaire simply chuckled and escorted him to his chambers.

“Never is terribly subjective, don’t you think, Apollo?”

Enjolras bristled at the nickname and flung himself on his canopied bed.

Grantaire shut the door and pondered on how that could’ve gone better. Enjolras didn’t come out for a few days, and during that period of time Hermes flew in at least 50 times with messages from other gods and goddesses who wanted the sun. They wanted Enjolras back. Where was he? The messages got more frantic by the hour. Grantaire risked a trip to Mount Olympus, only to find the world in complete darkness. He belonged there now. 

He had some servants prepare a meal for Enjolras and did his underworldly duties. Grantaire wanted to claim his prize. He tiptoed to Enjolras’ room and found his tray of food empty. He flung open the door and found a tearstained Enjolras. It occurred to him in a flash. Enjolras ate. He would have to stay there now. He was his. Judging by the tears, this wasn’t good news to dear Apollo. Yet Grantaire was not one for comfort, so they simply stared at each other for a while.

“You are mine now. You’re a consort, therefore the kingdom of Hades is half yours. Shall we go look over our kingdom together?”

Enjolras sniffed and begrudgingly got up. So they walked and talked, and Grantaire actually listened to what Enjolras had to say. The revolutionary ruler of the sun had lots of ideas of how to better Hades, and Grantaire planned on making those ideas reality. 

So their days began and ended like this, a relentless push and pull. Grantaire’s desire for Enjolras only grew, but all his advances were rejected. Then again, why would Enjolras want Grantaire’s smoky blackness to overcome his holy light? But Grantaire never stopped wanting. He wanted so much. They ruled the kingdom together. 

 

One day they discussed the sun. At this point, it hadn’t been up for a few months and Mount Olympus had erupted in chaos and the mortals were scared. Grantaire knew something had to be done, but he couldn’t bear the thought of losing Enjolras. 

“Enjolras, the sun can’t be up all the time. It’s too much and mortals need rest.”

So Enjolras locked himself in his room and pondered until he sorted it out. He decided that he’d need to spend the day on Mount Olympus, but then come back to Grantaire after a while and let the sun go down. This is how night was created. 

Grantaire couldn’t wait anymore. Enjolras wasn’t his slave, he was free to leave as long as he promised he’d always come back. So Grantaire chained the light down, and indeed made him scream until his throat was hoarse and he couldn’t talk. It was a beautiful cacophony of colors and noise. Gods don’t need sleep or rest, so for a week they were lost in each other. Grantaire spent hours tracing the lines of Enjolras’ body with his hands and eventually his body. Enjolras would hold onto Grantaire’s onyx curls for dear life, and they loved. 

That night, Grantaire grew a pair of inky black wings. He’d never loved anything as ruler of the underworld, but loving Enjolras that night had given him something he never thought he’d be able to have. 

Enjolras entered Grantaire’s world when it was shrouded in darkness; he left it gleaming with light.


End file.
